The rich port and walled city

Viejo San Juan is known as “la cuidad amurallada,” or the walled city. The greatest Spanish military thinkers of the time believed that the walls would save the Spanish Crown and ultimately the New World Empire. Ten cities across the Caribbean Sea were deemed critical to the protection and expansion of the Spanish Empire, including Veracruz, Panama, and San Juan. This rich port city was surrounded by walls, with the largest two forts in all of the Americas, namely El Morro and El Castillo de San Cristobal. In the 17th century, they falsely believed that walls would keep out the foreigners by protecting its citizens from outside threats. It’s not too dissimilar from our country’s policies today. As the so-called Freedom Fighters battle Mexican immigrants from the southern border and Americans criticize our involvement and aid across the globe, we have much to learn from history. Indeed, after the fall of its Empire in the 1800s, Spain withdrew from the world into one of the most isolationist countries in all of Europe. What will be the fate of the U.S.?

This is Semester at Sea’s first call of port in Puerto Rico, San Juan, but la patria or land has an ancient history with its claim as the second oldest city in the Americas. In addition to the oldest Church in North and South Americas and the cobblestones brought directly from Spanish galleons, the Spanish influence is widespread and noticeable. As we left the cool Nassau breezes of January and the old British buildings, we entered waters that are warmer than the air, and traded English for Espanol. Despite rough seas and turbulent waters, even the Dramamine and seasickness could not contain the excitement in the air. Walking down decks 5 and 6, we see students and faculty/staff planning their adventures and practicing their Spanish. After two rolling and bobbing days at sea, there was not enough time for us to develop the “sea legs” that our crew describe, possibly on the trip to Brazil.

Due to the incessant day stops by Cruise ships in San Juan, we are porting 10 minutes outside of the main harbor. We only recently left U.S. Customs two weeks ago, but we are entering the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico, a U.S. protectorate since 1898 when the U.S. forces were welcomed in the southeast part of the island, and we must present our passports face-to-face with American port agents. Fruits, vegetables, and even water cannot travel between the ship and land. Dogs were brought on board to search the ship for drugs and our international friends were subject to intense scrutiny in direct interviews with Customs.

More walls.

The paradox of U.S. association in the Island of Enchantment confuses even the most well-traveled and well-informed international enthusiasts. Immediately preceding the Spanish-American War of 1898, the eroding Spanish Empire granted the Boricuas sweeping civil rights within the context of Spanish protection. The debate between independence and global power association has long been debated by the Puertorriquenos, but this development pleased both sides. As soon as the Americans moved in, the new agreement was tossed aside and a military government installed. They renamed the island to Portorico, one English word that was easier to pronounce until being changed back to Puerto Rico in the 1930s. A century later, 4 million people and even more cars populate the small island. Los tapones (traffic jams) and pirigueros (snow cones sales people) are common sites for cruise ship tourists, and Puerto Ricans now enjoy U.S. citizenship despite no voting rights in the U.S. government. Their two representatives attend Congress proceedings but cannot voice their constituents’ concerns or vote on any legislation. It is a double-edged sword. Since the 1940s, tourism and projects such as Operation Bootstrap and Governor Luis Munoz Marin, the first governor, have greatly improved the overcrowded island community (over 1,110 people per square mile). Even slums like La Perla (The Pearl, anything but a rare jewel) in Old San Juan now have Upward Bound and newly painted colorful building facades. The debate between statehood, independence and something in between continues, but the relationship with the States comes with advantages and challenges for the local puertoriquenos. Half prefer statehood, the other half the status quo. Independents are so marginal that they are almost not represented in the local government.

My time is Puerto Rico is short, only three days. La Bomba and plena musica pound in the streets. Few young Puerto Ricans know the old dances, but the mix of African, Caribbean and Spanish sounds and influences affect the great music, salsa and meringue. While eating mofongo and amarillos, I chat with teachers, dancers, and musicians. Over café con leche at a local shop, an older woman and I read the paper and discuss politics. There is even an article in the El Sol about Semester at Sea’s stop here in town and the two Puerto Rican students studying with us. I spend one day for kayaking Seven Seas near Fajardo, another for exploring and walking Old San Juan, and one more day is reserved for El Yunque, the only rainforest in all of the United States, and Luquillo, one of the most famous beaches in the Caribbean. I walked through many old Spanish plazas, like “la Barandilla” and “la plaza de la palomas” or pigeon square, and you see men playing the favorite pastime, dominoes. In fact, as I watch the men playing dominoes, I think about the U.S. foreign policy of containment and the domino theory. Old Spain and the United States have much in common; it seems that foreign policy hasn’t changed much in several hundred years.

On Monday my friends and I had lunch with two men at Café Mallorca. They worked for the Olympic Committee in Puerto Rico, and the quiet one was the Secretariat General. “Puerto Ricans,” our new friend told us, “are the most beautiful people across the world because we have mixed with everyone—Spanish, English, Portugues, Taino, etc.” It seems my friend knows that there is more potential and power in sharing, dialogue and engagement than any walls we can build, even when we are one land.

Retreat Into Paradise

My weekend two day stint and vacation in the Bahamas is over. Sunday afternoon I boarded the M.V. Explorer with an exciting and welcoming reception complete with introductions and a faculty/staff social hour. The excitement, enthusiasm and optimism about this great learning experience of all aboard are matched only by our desire to see the world. With only a day and a half in Nassau and Cable Beach, I admit that the paradise of the Bahamas was well worth the wait. Despite the revolving door of American tourists, the Islands of the Bahamas lived up to their reputation, complete with kind and hospitable people and picturesque clear waters and beaches. Downtown Nassau with its colorful shades of colonial architecture was complimented with warm 80-degree weather and a warm breeze this week

Each day I venture off our ship and I witness the lure of the Bahamas, pristine beaches, crystal-clear waters and old British ways. My weeklong Orientation with Semester at Sea has started, but allows for some free time to continue my explorations of the island. Despite 30 years of post-colonial rule, the Bahamians retain much of their old Commonwealth practices and cultural mannerisms, complete with driving rules, language, and architecture, not to mention the duty free liquor and jewelry so many tourists clamor for. Still, the weather kept me out of the water this past weekend when we had strong winds and cooler temperatures from the Northwest, and time limited my activities and exploring. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the Bahamian friendliness and the downtown pink colonial architecture, and explored with some new friends among the staff and faculty on Monday.

The Bahamian people lived up to their reputation. On Sunday, I met a young Bahamian woman and we shared a lunch at Quiznos while discussing the tourism of the 700 island nation. Right down the street from the Starbucks and Burger King, I asked her what’s it like to live among 200,000 inhabitants and over 5 million visitors each year. She was eating at Quiznos because it was actually cheaper than many of the Bahamian restaurants close to where she works downtown. Globalization versus localization I guess. The challenge I assume, other than being asked for directions incessantly and bothered by young Americans on Spring Break, is the realization that this land of no taxes and very few other commodities relies almost exclusively on tourism. Luckily the Bahamas missed the disasters of the States during a record-setting hurricane season, but what do you do when the island is destroyed and visitors choose instead to spend their money elsewhere?

On my flight in from JFK, I met a welcoming young man from Nassau, an engineer and I talked about shopping. We shared a taxi and he ironically explained why he prefers shopping in the States, having recently returned from Ft. Lauderdale, FL. We talked about places to visit and how to avoid many of the tourist traps on the island. The reality is that many of the goods sold and provided here are very expensive, and locals paid low local wages cannot afford the luxuries of the tourists.

Paradise.

A nation like the Bahamas must struggle with the permanent landscape of tourists arriving and leaving while remaining friendly and welcoming. But how do you live in Paradise? How many times a day must you be asked for which bus you can take or how to hitch a taxi ride? Are these the daily inconveniences part of the compromise of living in a tourist supported country or city? What other sacrifices must be made to welcome foreigners from a different land, often those who make fun of local customs or refuse to accept local currency? “What time is it at home?” “Why don’t they serve French fries?” “Why do they talk funny?” When do the revolving doors in Nassau become more of a hassle then an advantage, impeding upon local culture? If it is possible to sell your culture, for what price?

I walk along famous street and explore and listen. I have found this to be one of my favorite activities in any country around the world. I often reflect about how fortunate and proud I am to be American and from States, and yet I overhear comments, witness behaviors and shun away at other times for being American. Despite the lore that we are from the land of the free and home of the brave, American politics and often individual behaviors from Americans make me embarrassed. Many travelers I meet wear Canadian flags and claim to be from the land of the North in order to disassociate themselves from their American brethren. The truth is, despite our many successes, the politics of the Pentagon and the State Department are known to all—our reputation is changing. Will we still receive tourists in the future?

The Power of Tourism

Why do people travel?

On Saturday, January 14th, I will embark on my journey around the world. 100+ days of learning, traveling, exploring, understanding and changing...

But what is the lure of traveling? The people or the food? The stories or the conquests? Exploration or relaxation? History or adventure? T. S. Eliot wrote, "We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." I have heard many others speak about the changes one undergoes from an experience such as this. One previous SAS student asked me inquisitively, "How much time will you take off when you return--six months, one year?" May 1st I told her. Two days after my return...

Ever since we have walked the planet, we have moved and traveled to return home and tell stories. There is a lure in travel. Something remarkable and explainable. It is the mystery of the unknown and the ability to control your own experience. However, more and more countries around the world are moving towards eco-travel and tourism. Tourism is a huge cash cow, bringing in cold hard foreign currency to some of the poorest and most developing places in the world. Even Guatemala is getting in on the action. This country, ravaged by civil war, pillaged by American Companies like United Fruit, and long a country repressed and even tortured by its militaristic and repressive regimes and govemments is going after the all-mighty dollar. Indeed tourism has become the cure-all for a number of developing countries, and tourism is now the fastest growing industry in the world, accounting for 10.7% of the world Gross National Product, employing 260 million people, and earning revenues of $500 billion dollars worldwide (World Tourism Organization).

At the same time, tourism isn't always the silver lining for economic planners. With dollars and tourist revenue comes change. China, Cuba, Vietnam, Russia...the world is changing. Demographic reform and voting comes more often from trade and tourism than from the military sword. Our upcoming visit takes us to Burma or Myanmar, a country long repressed after 40 years of military rule. Are there limits and standards for careful and safe tourism? What is our role as tourists and travelers?

Can travel and tourism bring democratic and free change? I don't know all of the answers, but I am sure that the most impactful and lasting change may not be the tourist dollar and ideas but rather the tourist himself.